The Reaping Peeta's POV
by GirlHunterOnFire
Summary: The reaping in Peeta's POV up until they go into the Justice Building.


I arrived with all the other kids. I was dressed like other kids, dressed in my best. I was scared like all the other kids. But unlike all the other kids I had a stinging mark on my back from the spoon I was hit with this morning. Still tender to the touch.

Warren and Blake of course didn't get in trouble for the spill in the bakery, it was my fault even though it was their rough housing that knocked the flour off the table. I was just the one found cleaning it up when mother came in and grabbed the big wooden spoon used for mixing batter and hit me over the back, broke it clean in two. Now it just stings and hurts to move in certain directions, but I'm used to it, not like I haven't had this happen before.

Walking into the square to sign in I catch a glimpse of a blonde haired girl in two braids holding hands with a taller dark brown haired girl that even without the single simple braid down her back I would recognize. Katniss Everdeen. Her hair was braided up on her head, she wore a soft blue dress instead of the pants and shirts that I believed were her fathers that she wore at school. Primrose, her sister stopped. She looked scared and Katniss stopped to calm her. I was so amazed at how almost immediately Prim calmed as Katniss talked it was so unreal.

"Watch it!" I hear a familiar laugh as my brother Warren bumps into me sending pain up and down my back making me grit my teeth. "Get moving bread boy, reaping's about to start." I glared angrily at Warren then glanced at Katniss softly then shuffle off to sign in and get herded to my age group.

I focus on the temporary stage set before the Justice Building, the three chairs, podium and two glass balls with slips of paper one for the boys and one for the girls. Out of the boys there are 40 slips of papers in there with the name Peeta Mellark on them. Just because we were a family of bakers didn't mean we could eat freely. All the good supply were used for the things in the bakery, if we wanted to eat, we got the tiny scraps and whatever we could make out of tesserae. And Warren and Blake felt it was mostly my responsibility now, they no longer put their names in, except I did see Blake go sign up once this year and bring home some, but he just said it was my doing.

Two of the chairs are already filled. The first with the mayor, Madge Undersee's father. The second, the escort of District 12 Effie Trinket. This year she's sporting a pink wig, and a spring green outfit with her ghostly white smile. The empty seat seems to be a concern to them, but as the clock strikes two they don't hesitate to begin.

The mayor steps up and reads the history of Panem. How Panem came to be, how the Hunger Games came to be and the simple rules of the Hunger Games; last tribute wins. Then he reads the list of the District 12 victors and in 74 years we've only had two and only one is still alive. And just on cue Haymitch Abernathy the drunk, paunchy middle aged victor appears yelling something unintelligible staggering onto the stage and falls into the third chair. The crowd applauds and he's confused and tries to give Effie Trinket a big hug which she barely manages to fend off. I smile.

The mayor knowing this is being televised right now and is probably the laughing stock of Panem introduces Effie to keep the ball rolling and appear on top of things. Effie walks to the microphone bubbly and bright as ever and says the signature "Hayppy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" Effie goes on to say what an honor it is to be in this district and what an honor it is to be a tribute. My eyes wander through the crowd and I spot the back of Katniss. My throat tightens when I begin to think, what if it's her? Surely there are more odds in her favor. She's a hunter. She surely hasn't had to take much tesserae. The odds are in your favor Katniss Everdeen they have to be.

"Ladies first!" Effie calls and crosses to the girls glass bowl. Now the reaping has really begun. Effie reaches into the bowl and for show waves her hand around for a few moments before selecting a slip then snaps it out and walks back to the microphone and slowly starts to open it. Not Katniss. Not Katniss. Not Katniss. And it's not. My eyes widen in horror. It's her sister. Primrose Everdeen.

I watch silent and shocked as Prim slowly makes her way up towards the stage, the kids parting for her. Then out of the corner of my eye I see someone else move.

"Prim!" A strangled voice cries. "Prim!" The crowd of kids starts to part and I immediately know who it is, Katniss. What is she doing? I want to move after her but keep still. My fist clenches at my side. She's going to get the both of them hurt or killed. But then she reaches Prim and pushes her behind her and the words "I volunteer!" leave her lips in a gasp. My fists go slack at my side. "I volunteer as tribute!" Numbness spreads throughout me and confusion starts on stage as protocol on volunteers has become rusty since there has literally been none in decades.

"Lovely!" says Effie Trinket. No, it's not. It's all horrible and sick! "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um..."she trails off, unsure herself the protocol.

"What does it matter?" the mayor says." What does it matter?" he repeats gruffly. "Let her come forward."

Prim's begun to scream hysterically behind Katniss wrapping her arms around her. The screams reaching my ears and down to my heart. I look down and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Well, bravo!" Effie says. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She's pleased. I glance up. "What's your name?"

There's was only a small hesitance before the clear small voice rang out, "Katniss Everdeen."

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" says Effie Trinket.

But no one claps. Instead, the people of District 12 do the boldest form of dissent we can manage. Silence. Then, almost every member of the crowd one by one touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out into the air. I numbly bring my hand up then leave my hand there a moment; I love you Katniss; kiss my fingers and slip them into the air.

"Look at her. Look at this one!" Haymitch has staggered to Katniss and thrown his arm around her. "I like her! Lots of... Spunk!" he says triumphantly. "More than you!" He goes to the front of the stage. "More than you!" he shouts pointing directly into a camera. He's about to open his mouth to continue but he loses his balance and plummets offstage and knocks himself unconscious.I would have probably laughed or snickered normally, but no not today. Not when the person I've had a crush on for forever has just volunteered and is going to her death. The cameras train on Haymitch and everyone watches Haymitch but me. I watch Katniss as her face goes emotionless as she stares straight ahead placing her hands behind her back. Haymitch is taken away on a stretcher, "What an exciting day!" Effie trills trying to keep the ball rolling. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!" This is it, who's going in with Katniss? Will they protect her? Of course not. It's a fight to the death, they'll be after her head. Effie crosses to the bowl and reaches in and pulls out a slip and goes to the microphone. So, how do I change that? Am I really willing to go in for someone to protect Katniss? I take a deep breath as Effie opens the slip of paper. Yes, I'll volunteer to go in and protect Katniss. "Peeta Mellark." My heart stops. I feel the color drain from my face. No need to volunteer, I think weakly to myself. I begin towards the stage trying to keep any emotion off my face. But I was alarmed. This is what I wanted though, to go in, to protect Katniss. I mount the stage and take my place on the other side of Effie and stare out at the crowd. Effie asks for volunteers for me but I know Warren and Blake will not do it, and, and I don't want them to.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Treason, but I'm not listening. I'm already planning. Make Katniss look good. That won't be hard. Never leave her side. Harder, but not impossible. Protect her, that's my goal. How? How can I do this? My heart drops into my stomach and I struggle to keep my face emotionless as the though hits hard. There's only one way Katniss is coming home, that's if all of us are dead. I will protect her till the very end, then I will die and Katniss will be victor. I have to clench my fist tight to keep from tearing up. I look around the square and off in the distance a little and find the bakery obscured slightly by the crowd, but at least I get to take a little of this good memory of District 12 with me to hold onto as I die. I'll already be taking Katniss for the time being. I'll have to work in an I love you somewhere before I die also.

The mayor has finished and tells us to shake hands I unclench my fist and reach for her hand and take hold and look at her soft slightly scarred hand then up into her gray eyes so common in the Seam and give her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. She would not be in this alone.

We turn back to face the crowd, and I stare hard at them with what I felt a determined look, also slightly unforgiving. She would not be alone ever. I would put the odds entirely in her favor. At the cost of my own life.


End file.
